


A Walk in the Park

by track_04



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9613853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/track_04/pseuds/track_04
Summary: Sometimes all it takes to make a friendship is a bit of food and a shared inability to communicate like normal human beings.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [horchata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horchata/gifts).



Yuuri probably should have known that something was wrong when Yuri stood and stalked across the locker room toward him, his phone clutched tightly in one hand and his face drawn into a scowl. Unfortunately, he'd been in St. Petersburg long enough that he'd gotten a bit complacent, too used to Yuri's moods to really expect anything other than a few cutting remarks.

"What's this?" Yuri held his phone up and motioned at the screen.

Yuuri stopped putting on his skates long enough to slip his glasses on and lean in for a better look.

  


**Going to Paris for a week! Please take care of Yuuri for me~ ヾ(＠^∇^＠)ノ**

  


Yuri crossed his arms over his chest and scowled down at him, not waiting for his answer. "Why is Victor going to Paris? It's three weeks before the start of the season."

"He's already there, actually. He left last night." Yuuri stared at Yuri blankly for a minute, not quite sure what to say. "They wanted him to film a commercial and do some promotion. He'll be back in a few days."

"And he wants me to take care of you while he's gone? What's the supposed to mean?"

"I'm sure it's just Victor being Victor." Yuuri waved a hand in front of him and laughed awkwardly. "You don't have to do anything, really."

"I'm not keeping you company, if that's what he's thinking."

"Of course not. I have Makkachin here to keep me company. It's fine, really. Just ignore him."

Yuri pressed his lips together in a tight line and looked down at Makkachin like he was just noticing him for the first time. "He's making you take care of his dog?"

"It's only a few days. I don't mind watching him."

"Typical," Yuri said. He turned and stomped away, muttering something in Russian that Yuuri didn't quite catch.

Yuuri reached down to scratch behind Makkachin's ears, smiling a little at the way he leaned into the touch. "We're okay for a few days, aren't we, boy?"

Makkachin lifted his head and looked up at him expectantly, his tail thumping against the floor.

"Yeah, we're okay," he said and moved to finish lacing up his skates. 

\--

Yuri seemed willing to let it go after that, avoiding direct contact with either Yuuri or Makkachin for the rest of the day. For his part, Yuuri was too busy working out the kinks in his short program to worry about it. He would have forgotten about it entirely if he hadn't caught Yuri staring at him from across the rink at random intervals throughout the day, an unfamiliar look on his face.

He thought about it again, briefly, when Victor phoned him later that evening, but Victor was in the middle of a dramatic retelling of his flight to Paris, and by the time he'd finished, Yuuri had forgotten about it again.

\--

The next day, Yuri was already out on the ice by the time Yuuri finished getting ready. He got Makkachin settled in on the sidelines and started to stretch, pausing mid-motion when he spotted Yuri making his way across the rink toward him at full tilt. He slid to a stop beside the boards and gave Yuuri a brief, disdainful look before he spoke.

"What's wrong with him?" 

Yuuri turned his head to follow Yuri's gaze to the spot where Makkachin was currently curled up on top of Yuuri's jacket, looking completely at peace with the world. "Nothing? Should there be something wrong with him?"

"He looks lonely."

"You think so?" Yuuri turned back to find Yuri scowling at him. "He looks fine to me."

"He probably misses Victor," Yuri said, leaning forward against the boards, eyes intense. "You should tell Victor to stop being so selfish. He can't just keep running off and leaving everyone behind."

Yuuri blinked. "I didn't know you cared so much about Makkachin."

"I don't. I just hate it when Victor does this. Did he even think about taking Makkachin with him?"

"He mentioned it," Yuuri said, his back straightening as he started to feel annoyed on Victor's behalf. "But he'll already be traveling a lot during the season, so we thought it would be best if he stayed at home now."

"Well, it was still selfish. Tell him to cut it out." Yuri scowled and turned sharply on his heels. He was halfway across the rink before Yuuri could even think to respond.

"At least it's only a few days," he muttered to no one in particular, turning his head to watch Makkachin twitch slightly in his sleep.

\--

That outburst seemed enough to appease Yuri's anger, at least, and he left both Yuuri and Makkachin alone for the rest of the day. Aside from the times that Yuuri looked up to find him staring at him with that same unreadable expression, but he was almost starting to get used to that.

That night when Victor called, Yuuri was too distracted by the last minute changes that Victor wanted to make to his free skate to bother bringing up either Yuri's staring or his newly found concern for Makkachin.

\--

Makkachin woke Yuuri up early the following day, so he ended up arriving at the rink a bit earlier than usual. It was empty when he got there, most of the lights still off. His footsteps echoed in the hallway as he headed toward the locker room; it surprised him, just how at home he felt in the silence. The quiet reminded him of being home in Hasetsu, sneaking into the rink at odd hours to practice, nothing there to distract him from the burn in his muscles or the sound of his skate blades cutting across the ice. 

He ignored the slight pang of homesickness that thought gave him and got Makkachin settled into his usual spot. By the time Yuri showed up, he'd already managed to work up a decent sweat, his hair plastered against his forehead and his shirt sticking to him in unpleasant ways. He skated to the edge of the rink and stopped, taking a moment to watch Yuri stretch, his body bending into increasingly severe angles. He was a little in awe of how easy Yuri made it look, the same way that he'd probably always be in awe of the way Victor made everything about his skating look so effortless.

Yuuri shook himself mentally and slipped on his skate guards, stepping off the ice. He grabbed his water bottle from the bench and took a moment to catch his breath before he called out to Yuri, "Good morning."

For a second, Yuri looked like he might ignore him, but he let go of his leg and turned to nod at him instead.

Makkachin picked that moment to put his paws on Yuuri's knee, staring up at him with wide eyes. Yuuri smiled and reached down to scratch behind his ears. "Ready for breakfast?"

Makkachin sat back on his haunches and perked up his ears, watching eagerly as Yuuri leaned over and dug through the bag he had stuffed under the bench. He pulled a dish and a bag of kibble out of it, laying the first on the ground and filling it with the second. He waited until Makkachin started eating before he pulled an energy bar out for himself.

"That's your breakfast?" Yuri had stopped stretching at some point and was watching him, wearing a less intense version of his usual scowl.

Yuuri smiled sheepishly at him. "I never eat a lot in the morning."

Yuri mumbled something under his breath and moved toward his own bag, pulling something out of it and taking a seat next to him on the bench. He opened it up and held it out, looking at Yuuri expectantly. "You should eat more."

"Oh, it's fine. I can't take your food--"

"I brought too much." Yuri flushed and waved the container at him again. "If you don't eat some I'll just have to throw it away."

Yuuri nodded and reached inside to pull out a small, round piece of something that smelled heavenly. "What is it?"

"Syrniki," Yuri said, reaching in and taking one out for himself. "It's kind of like a pancake."

Yuuri took an experimental bite and made an almost embarrassing noise as the taste hit his tongue. He wasn't sure if it was really that good or if he'd just gotten too used to eating nothing but energy bars for breakfast, but he still appreciated the change. He took a moment to compose himself and then turned to Yuri, smiling. "This is really good. Thanks."

Yuri shrugged and didn't answer, but when he offered him another, he looked almost pleased.

\--

Yuuri caught Yuri staring at him throughout the day, just like he'd caught him staring at him the two days prior. The difference this time, though, was that Yuri looked more relaxed than he had on either of the previous two days, his expression almost thoughtful.

Once, when Yuri had been staring at him for longer and a bit more blatantly than usual, Yuuri lifted a hand to wave at him. Yuri's flush was visible from across the rink as he turned back to Yakov, his eyes fixed on his coach's face like he was hanging on his every word.

Yuuri smiled a little to himself and went back to practicing his jumps, making a mental note to tell Victor about it when he called.

\--

Yuri arrived at the rink first the next day. He was already almost done with his stretches by the time Yuuri and Makkachin stepped out into the main area, and he stopped when he spotted them, moving toward his bag. He didn't give Yuuri time to do much of anything before he was thrusting a container in his direction.

"I have extra again."

"Thank you." Yuuri reached out to take it and smiled, a bit confused when Yuri thrust a second container at him along with the first. "Oh--I don't know if I can eat all of this."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "This one's for him." He nodded at Makkachin, who was circling their feet and sniffing the air curiously. "It's just some meat scraps. I was going to throw them away, but I thought they were probably okay for a dog."

"I'm sure he'll love them."

"Yeah--whatever." Yuri turned and moved toward the rink, shoulders tense, like he was afraid Yuuri would say something else before he could get away.

Yuuri looked down at Makkachin, who looked like he was about to start drooling on Yuri's shoes. "Are you hungry?"

Makkachin moved to sit in front of the bench, head turned to look back at Yuuri expectantly.

Yuuri laughed. "Yeah, me too."

\--

Yuri found him again in the locker room that evening, waiting until Yuuri was fully focused on taking off his skates to approach him. "I'm going to my grandfather's tomorrow."

Yuuri started and turned to look at him, embarrassed to be caught off-guard. "What?"

Yuri frowned and repeated himself, more slowly this time. "I said I'm going to my grandfather's tomorrow."

"Oh, well, I hope you have fun, then."

Yuri hesitated, looking uncertain before he continued, "He has an extra room. And a park near his apartment."

"That sounds nice."

"A lot of people walk their dogs there." Yuri gave him a pointed look.

"Um, that's...good?" Yuuri frowned. "Are you thinking about getting a dog? I thought you were more of a cat person."

Yuri rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not getting a dog." 

"Oh. Do you like to go there to watch the dogs...?"

"No." Yuri stared at him long enough for the silence to grow uncomfortable and then sighed long-sufferingly. "I thought you could take Makkachin there. This weekend."

"Doesn't he live in Moscow? That seems like a long way to go just for a walk."

Yuri looked like he was contemplating kicking Yuuri in the shin. "Not if you're already in Moscow, idiot."

Yuuri stopped and ran back over the conversation in his head, his eyes widening a little. "Are you inviting me to go with you?"

Yuri crossed his arms over his chest and turned his face away, but it wasn't enough to hide the beginnings of a blush. "You don't have to come if you're busy."

"I'm not." Yuuri cleared his throat. "Is your grandfather okay with having extra company?"

"I told him about how Victor abandoned his dog with you so he could go to Paris, and he thought it might be good for Makkachin to get out of the house and go to the park and see other dogs."

"But there are dogs in the park next to Victor's apartment--"

"Oh, for the--nevermind," Yuri said, looking almost hurt as he turned away. "I told him it was a stupid idea."

"Wait--" Yuuri stood and grabbed Yuri's arm before he could escape, holding him in place while he gave his mouth a moment to catch up to his brain. "Sorry, I just--maybe your grandfather's right. It might be nice to get out of the house. Makkachin has been a little lonely."

Yuri's posture relaxed a little, the change so small that Yuuri might have missed it if he hadn't been standing so close. "He'll be here to pick us up after practice tomorrow. You can bring your bag with you to the rink."

"Sure. Thanks." Yuuri watched Yuri disappear out the door, waiting until his footsteps had faded away completely before he looked down at Makkachin. "Moscow could be exciting, right?"

Makkachin stared up at him, his tongue hanging out of one side of his mouth and his tail wagging behind him. Yuuri decided to take that as a yes.

\--

Yuri was already out on the ice when Yuuri got to the rink the next day. He'd left food for both Yuuri and Makkachin on the bench, the little plastic containers stacked neatly on top of one another. Yuuri smiled to himself as he sat down and fed both himself and Makkachin, watching Yuri work through the last of his warm-ups. 

"You're becoming more Russian every day," Mila said as she slid onto the bench beside him. She eyed the almost-empty container in his lap with a look that bordered on pride. "Did you make those?"

"No, Yuri brought them." Yuuri laughed awkwardly. "Victor said something about taking care of me while he was gone. I think maybe he's taking it a bit too seriously."

Mila looked thoughtful. "And you think he brought you food because Victor asked him to?" 

"Yes? I think he cares more about what Victor thinks than he likes to admit."

"I think he cares about what a lot of people think, not just Victor." She patted him on the knee. "Yuri's grandfather taught him how to make those, you know. So that he'd always have something that reminded him of home while he was here."

Yuuri felt a pang of guilt as he looked down at the container. "No, I didn't know that."

"Well, now you do." Mila stood, giving him a knowing look as she walked away.

Yuuri lingered a little over the last few bites of his breakfast, watching Yuri practice and turning the conversation over in his head.

\--

Yuuri liked Yuri's grandfather, despite the fact that they were practically strangers and could barely communicate. He was surprisingly laid back when compared to his grandson, and he seemed almost appreciative of Yuuri's fumbling attempts at Russian.

Yuri seemed different around him, too, more relaxed than usual. He stopped throwing wary looks at Yuuri and Makkachin after the first half hour in the car, and spent the rest of the drive alternating his conversation between his grandfather and Yuuri, making a point to translate for Yuuri if there was anything he didn't seem to understand on his own.

By the time they arrived at the modest apartment that Mr. Plisetsky called home, Yuuri was feeling a lot more relaxed, too. For his part, Makkachin seemed to agree, based on the way he followed Yuri into the guest bedroom and made himself at home on the bed with only a few cursory sniffs of the apartment along the way.

Yuuri was trying to decide whether or not he should shoo him onto the floor when Yuri stepped into the bedroom behind him and dropped his bag onto the carpet at Yuri's feet. 

"That's your pillow tonight. I'm not sleeping on dog drool."

"I can make him move--" Yuri dropped his own bag and started toward the bed.

"He's fine. Warmer there than on the floor." Yuri turned and disappeared back out the door, calling back over his shoulder. "Grandfather's making tea, if you want some."

Yuri nodded to the empty room, watching Makkachin for a moment before he headed toward the kitchen. 

\--

Yuuri had managed to acquire a taste for Russian tea in the time that he'd been in St. Petersburg, so he was happy for the cup that Yuri's grandfather handed him. He would have still finished it even if he hadn't liked it, just to be polite, but it was good to be able to enjoy it, too.

Things were awkward, briefly, when he sat down at the table and Yuri seemed like he wasn't quite sure what to do with him now that he was here, but Mr. Plisetsky was quick to make conversation and distract them both. Yuuri joined in where he could, but mostly he just listened and let himself enjoy the company. The apartment was too small to be mistaken for his family's inn, but the feeling of being somewhere he belonged was almost the same. He wondered if maybe Yuri would invite him back again sometime when he could bring Victor along, too.

It didn't feel as awkward as it probably should have when Yuri excused himself to use the washroom, leaving Yuuri alone with his grandfather.

"You and Yuratchka are friends?"

Yuuri cleared his throat before he spoke and hoped he didn't mangle his pronunciation too badly. "Yes? I think so."

Mr. Plisetsky gave him a knowing look. "Sometimes with him, it's hard to tell. But I think you're his friend." 

"I hope so."

"Me, too. He doesn't have many friends, so it's important that the ones he has are good. I think you seem like that type of friend."

"Thank you," Yuuri said because he wouldn't have been able to find the right words even if they were speaking Japanese.

Mr. Plisetsky smiled like he was happy with that answer and stood, moving around the kitchen to refill all three of their now-empty cups.

It probably should have made Yuuri feel uncomfortable, sitting there in silence with a virtual stranger after having that particular conversation, but it didn't. It felt oddly natural to sit there and enjoy the warmth of Mr. Plisetsky's kitchen, listening to the sounds of him preparing more tea, for once not feeling like he had to try to make forced conversation. 

The silence lasted until Yuri returned from the washroom, giving them both a suspicious look before he reclaimed his seat next to Yuuri. "Were you talking about me?"

Mr. Plisetsky clucked his tongue and turned from the counter, setting their cups in front of them before he grabbed his own and took a seat. "You don't think we have anything better to talk about?"

"You're giving me weird looks."

Mr. Plisetsky arched an eyebrow. "You should drink your tea before it gets cold.

"Whatever." Yuri mumbled in Japanese, giving Yuuri a sideways glance as he picked up his cup. 

Mr. Plisetsky met Yuuri's gaze across the table and winked. Yuuri managed, by some stroke of luck, not to choke on his tea.

\--

Yuuri had always had trouble sleeping in strange beds, so he wasn't that surprised when he he was still awake and staring at the unfamiliar ceiling what felt like hours after he'd gone to bed. He could hear both Makkachin and Yuri breathing quietly beside him and, further off in the other room, the faint sound of Mr. Plisetsky snoring.

He thought about what Mila had said that morning, and what Mr. Plisetsky had said tonight, and he wondered if maybe Victor hadn't been right in thinking that he needed someone to look after him while he was gone.

Or maybe he'd been hoping that he and Yuri would look after each other.

He smiled a little at the thought and whispered, "Thank you for taking care of me."

"You're welcome," came Yuri's answer from the other side of the bed, followed by his fist against Yuuri's shoulder. "Now shut up and stop thinking so loudly so I can sleep."

"Sorry." Yuuri rubbed at his shoulder, still smiling to himself as he closed his eyes.


End file.
